Can You Handle This
by Pilgrimmi
Summary: The new handler has arrived. Neal Caffrey, meet David Siegel. SPOILERS for Season 5.
1. Chapter 1

Neal Caffrey certainly didn't provide a good first impression.

Not to his new handler, Agent David Siegel, anyway. David had conscientiously arrived early on his first day at the New York White Collar office and been met by his new boss, Peter Burke. Agent Burke also seemed to have made a point of being in the office earlier than usual in order to give his new agent a tour and introduce him to the confidential informant that he was now to be in charge of.

The only hitch in the plan was that said informant did not arrive on time. At nine o'clock, when everybody else was present, Burke called a meeting to brief the staff on the high-profile arrest Agent Jones and his team had made the night before. Burke excused himself from the meeting, citing other urgent issues.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to introduce you to Caffrey first thing, but this briefing needs to be done with so we can get down to business," he said to David, apologetically. "Caffrey seems to be late – in truth, I haven't really pushed him to be punctual on normal days, since the first half hour of the workday usually is pretty lax around here anyway. He should be here by now, though. Why don't you join the others in the conference room – I'll send him in when he arrives."

"No problem, sir."

David was cordially greeted and introduced to the rest of the staff in the conference room by Agent Jones, and then took up position in the back of the room. The situation actually suited him. From what he knew about Caffrey – and even though they had yet to meet, he knew him better than most, from studying the CI's file and discussing him at length with Agent Burke – David realized he would need every advantage he could get. This was a good advantage. Caffrey knew his new handler was arriving today but he had no idea who he was or what he looked like. In the crowded room, with a number of fairly unknown agents from various other departments present, he wouldn't know whom to impress. David, while listening with one ear to the briefing (he was a good multi-tasker) would have a good chance to study his behavior and interaction with others.

In fact, he got to study him from the moment the CI walked in through the office doors. Caffrey stopped to talk to Burke, who was waiting for him there. According to what Burke had told David, their relationship was a bit tense at the moment – the consultant was naturally not happy to be given a new handler on apparently short notice, and maybe there was something else bothering him as well. But at least from this distance, nothing much seemed amiss between them. The way Caffrey looked at his boss and followed at his heels told David that the younger man still had plenty of respect for him, although in a quite relaxed manner.

Just outside the conference room they stopped, and David didn't have to be a lip-reader to guess that Caffrey was at that moment asking about him. (Burke later confirmed that he was right, and that the consultant had seemed uncharacteristically nervous about meeting his new handler.) Peter Burke didn't appear to give him much of an answer apart from a rather smug smile before he walked off to his own office.

And then Caffrey was in the conference room, slipping in surreptitiously with a mouthed "sorry" to Agent Barrigan (she wasn't the one in charge but was apparently scarier than Agent Jones). He looked around the room, raising questioning eyebrows at unfamiliar agents. David had to suppress his amusement at this, and chose to turn his back under the pretext of studying the wall screen and the file in his hands.

He didn't have to wait long before Caffrey spoke up, interrupting Agent Jones more or less mid-sentence to ask what the meeting was about. When chided for being late, he answered rather insolently and within a minute was interrupting again. This got him a well-deserved eruption of anger from Agent Barrigan (David had guessed right about her being the scary one). All in all, he seemed childish but not without a certain charm – his behavior that of a twelve-year-old with attention deficit disorder.

From what David had heard and read about Caffrey, this could be part of his normal, annoying but good-hearted attempts to liven things up. Or it might be a test of his new, unknown handler's reaction.

David smiled to himself and turned his focus on the case. This was what he and his charge were going to be working as their first case together, and he needed to be well informed about the details.

An interesting case, certainly. The question was how to bring in as many as the criminally involved as possible. When Caffrey interrupted again – this time, typically, by raising his hand like an impatient schoolboy with a fantastic idea – David sympathized entirely with Jones' barely contained fury. But when the CI started to present this idea, even though he wasn't allowed to finish, Agent David Siegel suddenly understood. It _was_ a fantastic idea. And Neal Caffrey _was_ much more than an annoyingly childish criminal.

"We can't concede the sale of illegal goods even in the short term." Barrigan and Jones, fed up with the interruptions, tried to squash the idea without even hearing the consultant out. David decided it was time to step in.

"We don't necessarily have to concede anything."

"Really?" Jones said. "We're all ears."

David had everybody's attention now, but he was mostly interested in the pair of bright blue eyes suddenly staring at him from the middle of the room. He waited a second, to make sure he had their full attention, before meeting that curious stare.

"Do you want to explain?" David wasn't going to claim somebody else's idea as his own, not even a criminal consultant's. He also wanted to see Caffrey's reaction to being confronted like this.

"No, please." Caffrey was either being polite, or suddenly more interested in the new agent than in explaining his suggestion. David suspected the latter.

The idea was outlined and received a tentative approval by the lead agents, who went straight into a discussion on the details. Caffrey, however, had definitely refocused his interest on something else.

"Thanks for the assist."

David nodded shortly. He wasn't going to reveal anything to his new consultant just yet, but it was obvious that that quick, mercurial mind had already figured out who he was. A guarded look came over Caffrey's face. He muttered something, not quite loud enough to be heard. An insult? David thought it best to call him on it straight away. Give him an inch and he would most certainly take a mile, forge it and sell both originals and copies.

He stepped into Caffrey's personal space with a politely questioning look. The CI tried to deflect, realized he couldn't, backed down and broke into a bright, fake smile.

"Oh, doesn't matter. Neal Caffrey," he introduced himself and offered his hand. "You must be my new handler."

David almost managed to suppress his smile this time and rearranged his face to something between neutral and stern. He already knew this task, keeping Neal Caffrey on track, was going to be the biggest challenge in his career so far. In fact, it would most likely either break it or make it.

He needed every advantage he could get. He needed Caffrey to keep this look in his blue eyes, the one he was trying rather unsuccessfully to hide – unsure, a bit confused, almost nervous. He needed Caffrey off balance.

He shook the consultant's hand with a firm grip.

"Must be."


	2. Chapter 2

Their first day together ran fairly smoothly, which wasn't what David had been expecting.

After the case briefing, there had been that slightly awkward meeting in the ASAC's office. Neal Caffrey had something rebellious in his eyes, mixed with resignation. Well, you couldn't blame him. This must be a humiliating experience for him, being handed over to a new supervisor whom he knew nothing about, one who held almost absolute power over him. He was standing next to Peter Burke, demonstratively slouching as if to show that he was the ASAC's buddy and David was just the new kid.

"How _old_ are you?" was his first question. It sounded like something you hear in the schoolyard – challenging if not outright rude. Agent Burke rolled his eyes.

David wasn't afraid of a little challenge from a CI. The tougher part had been surviving the next few minutes with Burke, who didn't get his tactics for softening Caffrey up and who had almost fired him on the spot. Once they cleared that up, David took a breath of relief. Burke wasn't somebody you wanted to disappoint. He seemed like a good boss – straightforward, fair, friendly, even caring – but with a low tolerance for screw-ups.

Stepping out of his office at last, David paused for a moment to look out over the bullpen. Caffrey was leaning on somebody else's desk, laughing at something with one of the junior agents.

"Neal." David set course for the conference room and waved at him to follow. "Let's get to work."

The consultant gave him a curious look when he arrived a moment later, as if he was dying to ask him something. But the conference room was filled with people, laptops and files and there was nothing for them to do except dive straight into the mess and start going through GreyTrade's documents and numbers to try to find more sellers of illegal goods. It was tedious work and demanded concentration – no time for small talk. Judging by his earlier behavior, David expected Caffrey's attention to flag within minutes. But to his surprise, he settled down next to his new handler to work in silence. Whenever one of them found something that might be of interest in the files, they consulted each other.

Caffrey seemed to have a knack for picking up on clues that most people wouldn't notice, an ability to think outside the box. It wasn't surprising that the White Collar division wanted to keep him around despite his tendency to drive them crazy.

Whenever the CI did start to sigh and fidget in his chair, David suggested a short break to get coffee, order in sandwiches for lunch or just stretch their legs. When this happened the third time, Caffrey gave him that curious look again.

"Really? You know, whenever I get restless, Peter usually just tells me to 'cowboy up' and get on with the work."

David grinned. "I guess you and I more alike then. I can never keep my concentration on something like this for hours at a time. Take a short break, come back with fresh eyes, that's my policy."

Caffrey's own grin seemed more genuine than any of his previous ones that day. "You should pitch that novel idea to Peter some time. He'd be shocked. OK if I go get a _real_ coffee from the coffee shop down the street? I'll get you one too."

At the end of the working day, Peter Burke approached their corner of the conference room with weary steps.

"Time to call it a day. I don't want to keep you late on your first day, Agent Siegel."

"I don't mind, sir. I think we're making progress here." He wasn't sure if he meant with the case or the consultant or both.

"I appreciate the attitude, but we've had an intense day. I'm heading home myself – my wife made me swear I would be home in time for dinner tonight. See you tomorrow."

Turning towards Caffrey, David caught him staring at Burke's retreating back with something resembling bitterness – very different from the way he usually looked at his former handler.

"What's the matter, Neal?"

"Nothing. All of a sudden he's just so … Nothing." Caffrey slipped that neutral face back on, the face David already was getting to know too well, and decisively closed down his laptop. But he couldn't hide his tiredness. "So, can I go?"

"I'll give you a ride home."

David had meant it as a friendly offer, but it was immediately clear from the way Caffrey snapped back that he didn't interpret it as such.

"What, you're going to search my apartment on your first day? Inform my landlady that you want a key and have the right to be let in at any time, day or night?"

"I already have a key." David was tired too, and he really had had an intense first day. But he made an effort to use a gentle tone. This wasn't the time to be harsh. "And no, that wasn't what I was planning. I was going to just drop you off and head straight to my hotel."

"Sorry." The consultant sighed. "Didn't mean to be rude. Thank you, but I'll walk home, get some air."

"All right." David hesitated for a second, not quite sure he was up for this conversation but decided to press on anyway. "We're both tired, I know, but do you mind just taking a minute to tell me how you think this day went?"

Caffrey paused in gathering up the files spread on the table, and turned a pair of surprised eyes on him. "You mean, working with my new handler? Fine. Why?"

"I'm sure it's not easy for you working with someone new after being with Agent Burke for so long. I know you and he made quite a team." He wasn't sure he was going to get a more honest answer than 'fine' out of the man, but he was determined to try.

There it was again, the resentment flashing over the CI's face for a brief second. "Well, there was this memorable meeting this morning, where the other member of my wonderful team handed me over to be controlled by someone whose name I didn't even know. Someone _younger_ than me." David almost grinned at this, but caught himself just in time. "And then he sent me out of the room like a child so that the grown-ups could discuss the business of how to handle me. So yeah, that was a great start to my day. But he would say that's what I get for being a criminal."

"Really? That doesn't actually sound like something Agent Burke would say."

"Maybe not, but he would think it."

David was fairly sure that this was not true. He was beginning to see many additional dimensions to the problem of handling Neal Caffrey. Besides the obvious one, that the consultant would try to con him and engage in criminal activities, there were unforeseen problems in the fact that Caffrey and his previous handler, their boss, were so close. Caffrey might try to play that to his advantage, go over his new handler's head, or Burke might interfere with David's handling methods even if he had promised he wouldn't do so. On the other hand, there was now this tangible tension in what had obviously been a good friendship between the two. Dealing with a resentful CI who apparently felt unfairly treated – well, that was a whole minefield in itself.

Great. 

"Neal, I meant what I said earlier. I look forward to working with you. And as long as you don't get yourself in trouble, I'll try not to make your life more difficult than it has to be. Deal?"

"It has to be difficult?"

"Well, my job includes monitoring you closely. If that makes your life difficult, then that's the way it has to be."

Caffrey shrugged and stood up. "Isn't it going to make _your_ life difficult? Monitoring me is not a nine-to-five job. Allegedly."

"I like a challenge. By the way, before you go – can I have my wallet back, please?"

"Why, of course, Agent Siegel. All you had to do was ask!"

The consultant's schoolboy grin was back. It was actually rather infectious. David received his wallet back with a flourish and made a point of putting it in his pocket without checking to see if anything in it was missing. He was probably going to regret it. Well, a man had to take risks.

"Thank you. See you tomorrow. And Neal – please be on time."

Caffrey threw him an amused look over his shoulder as he walked away. "Did you get that app for your phone yet? The one for tracking me? Could be useful, just in case I happen to rob a bank on my way to the office tomorrow. See you."


	3. Chapter 3

Neal arrived on time the following day.

He arrived together with Agent Burke, admittedly, which might have something to do with it. David still allowed himself a tiny smile of satisfaction that he didn't let anyone see.

Not that anyone was looking at him. He had set himself up in Burke's old office as instructed and had a distinct feeling that some of the other agents resented him for it. He had probably been promoted over somebody else's head.

Well, no time to worry about that now. He had a difficult CI to deal with and an important first case to solve. He had always managed to make friends before so no reason to believe he wouldn't start to get on with the others sooner or later – and if he didn't, he wouldn't worry about that either.

And he already had a lead on the first case, something worth checking out at least. Burke wasn't hard to convince, and soon enough David was standing outside a trader's premises by the East River, debating with Caffrey on the best way to get in.

He was starting to get a feel for the conman by now. From all the stories he had heard about Caffrey's charm and ability to talk his way into, or out of, any situation, he had assumed the man would be assertive, chatty, taking up a bit too much room. And he had certainly shown that side in the beginning. But since then, another part of his personality had taken precedence – one which seemed to be more in accordance with his true nature. More softspoken, attentive, respectful. Willing to help. Seemingly more obedient and easier to handle than David had expected.

That was in fact how his prison files had described him, so it was probably his smart way of dealing with his situation as a convicted felon in custody – making his superiors like him. Peter Burke, who probably knew him better than anybody else, had given David a slightly more diverse picture of the conman. But yes, he had also said that Caffrey for the most part tried to be cooperative and useful and succeeded in that very well.

Of course, it could also be a con.

"How about I go in first, and I pull you in once I've checked the place out, confirmed it's legit?"

Caffrey was looking at him with those blue eyes, deferentially waiting for him to make a decision. David decided to accept the plan, even though he had his doubts. Something felt a bit off. Caffrey's initial reaction to the name Little Star, his use of the pronoun "he" - David was no novice in picking up on tiny clues. Still, it was probably just his paranoia of being conned.

"Neal – be careful. This is not an arms dealer, but we still don't who we're up against, right?"

Odd that he should suddenly feel protective of the consultant. He had seldom hesitated to send his previous CI out undercover, and Caffrey seemed both capable and fearless. And yes, he was a couple of years older than David and possibly had more experience of going into unknown, dangerous situations.

All the same, Agent David Siegel was responsible for him and not about to let any harm come to him if he could help it.

Caffrey seemed slightly confused by the warning, as if it took him off guard. Strange, since David remembered something Burke had said about sending Neal undercover: _"I give him the Be Careful speech every time, but he never listens..."_

And then, David was waiting alone outside the building. The sun was shining, a breeze came up from the river and it was an altogether pleasant day in New York, but David refused to let his attention drift away from the building. He had let an unarmed, untrained consultant go into a suspect's building and nobody knew what he would face there.

Except maybe the consultant himself. Who just possibly knew more about this Little Star company than he was telling and had gone in there to warn them. David's subconscious was nagging him about it again. Damn. Paranoia or a legitimate gut feeling?

When the building's fire alarm suddenly shrieked through the air, David swore and went in without hesitation. Caffrey came towards him with a worried look on his face.

"What the hell, Neal?" Gritting his teeth, he tried to control the anger – an anger that welled up either from his suspicions or from the fear for his CI's safety he had felt when he heard an alarm go off.

"Maybe I got made..."

There was no time to listen to the rest of Caffrey's explanations because a strange little man showed up, made an odd reference to Emile Berliner, and got away. Going back to the office a while later, David drove without saying a word. The CI sensed his mood and stayed silent too.

At least the ASAC didn't take them apart for losing a suspect. Admitting it had happened was still humiliating. But instead of reaming out his agent for incompetence, Burke zeroed in on the fact that the Little Star guy apparently matched the description of someone the CI knew, and Caffrey instead became the recipient of his displeased frowns.

David settled down to try to coax some information out of the ruined laptop they had recovered while Burke kept Neal in his own office until he had produced a beautiful sketch of the suspect and had it approved by both his new handler and the old one.

"Here's the sketch," the consultant said when he was finally released. "Want me to put it in the file?"

"Thanks. Sit down. I think I got something from the laptop, just have to sort out the jumble first."

Caffrey carefully inserted the sketch in the file and closed it. Then he tipped his chair back, put a foot up on the edge of the desk and amused himself by playing with paperclips.

David sighed inwardly. Burke had probably employed a new handler because he was fed up with being a kindergarten teacher.

"Neal, if you're bored, I'm sure Barrigan could use your help."

The idea of going near Agent Barrigan was apparently enough to put the fear of God into the consultant. His chair quickly went back down on right keel and he abandoned the paperclip game. "No, I'm not bored." 

The discovery of a new lead, a possible name for the suspect, most likely saved the sanity of them both. Caffrey denied any knowledge of the name, but was that worry in his voice when he asked if there was a picture to go with it?

David leaned back in his own chair and stared him down, but the innocence in the face before him was impenetrable.

However, within a day, the Little Star case was over – sort of. The suspect was dead and David found himself apologizing to Burke when he went to hand in his report. The ASAC effectively put a stop to that and instead they had a chat about consultants. David came clean about what had happened just before his move to New York – that he had caught his previous CI forging state lottery tickets. He didn't say that he had hoped to keep it from his new boss, since it might reflect badly on his abilities as a handler.

He also didn't say how disappointed he had been – in his CI, in himself.

Burke's thoughtful look still seemed understanding, somehow. It had been clear from the first time they met that he wasn't altogether happy about handing over the responsibility for Caffrey to someone else.

David left the office, vowing to himself that his next case would be a win, and feeling a little better.

Before going to bed in his modest hotel – he could afford a better one, but flashing his money wouldn't earn him any friends at the Bureau – he checked Caffrey's tracking data again, out of newly acquired habit. Caffrey was at home.

It was time for David to acquaint himself with new routines, now that his first case was over and things might slow down for a bit. Among other things, he would need to go and introduce himself to Caffrey's landlady and check out that supposedly very fancy house. He needed to know everything he possibly could about his CI and the life he was leading.

But first things first – find himself an apartment. Maybe he would get Caffrey to help him with that. He was an expert on New York and it would give them an opportunity to bond somehow.

Standing by the window, looking down on a busy street and a never-ending stream of yellow cabs, David listened to the sounds of New York. His new home. He took a deep breath and allowed himself to relax, maybe for the first time in a week. This city would give him a new start, a boost in his career, and many, many challenges. He was looking forward to it.

He slept very soundly that night.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mozzie, he's dangerous."

"Yeah, I noticed when he pointed a gun at me!"

"I don't mean dangerous like that. OK, like that too. But dangerous as in smart enough to dig up all my skeletons, and yours too."

Neal was trying hard to convey the seriousness of the situation to his friend across the table, but Mozzie was preoccupied with the massive helping of oysters on his plate. Maybe they shouldn't have chosen this particular place for this conversation.

But options were limited, now that Siegel might come poking around June's house at any time and find Mozzie – a.k.a. the wanted, presumed dead, proprietor of Little Star Merchandize. They had agreed to meet at Grand Central Station instead, where Mozzie had immediately dragged Neal into his favorite oyster bar and commandeered a table where they could talk without being overheard.

(Mozzie had, naturally, also discreetly swept the place for bugs. Paranoia was the secret of longevity, after all.)

"Neal, I already know this. The Knock-Off Suit already dug up my most deeply buried and treasured skeleton! I'm lucky to still be around to enjoy these delicious oysters. Why aren't you eating?"

"Not hungry. It's like Peter chose a younger and hungrier version of himself to be my new handler. When we were chasing you – Teddy Winters – I had to watch myself around him every second. I felt he could pick up on every flicker of an eyelid that might betray me, or hear my heart beating faster."

"Neal, we're talking about Suit 2.0, not a vampire."

"Might as well be." Neal slumped dejectedly in his chair and pushed his plate away. "I have too many secrets to keep them all safe."

Mozzie narrowed his eyes at him. "I remember talking to you the evening after your first day with him. You actually seemed to like the new Suit then."

"I did, actually. Or maybe I was just relieved that he wasn't what I was afraid my new handler would be – a tyrant ready to implement draconian measures just to prove his power over me, like restricting my radius. Or a complete bore who stuck me at endless desk work and couldn't discuss anything more interesting than mortgage fraud case files or baseball. Siegel turned out to be someone I could both admire and like … and not many people deserve both."

"Neal, what have I told you?" Mozzie waved his fork around in frustration. "You can't just go around and _like_ people for no reason! You need to keep your guard up!"

"Moz, I'm not stupid. Of course I did. Siegel could make my life very difficult, I'm not forgetting that. And he's keeping eagle eyes on me, checking my anklet a couple of times an hour. This assignment is probably a big step up in his career and he is determined to prove himself."

The first few, terrifying days with Siegel were over, the danger to Mozzie at least temporarily averted and Hagan's assignment completed (or was it?). Neal was trying to relax and allow himself to breathe. And found himself with time to analyze his new handler in detail.

The way he had burst into the Little Star building that day, for example, seriously pissed off. Neal had plenty of experience of being yelled at by authority figures. But the way Siegel then drew his gun in an instant and almost shoved it in his face – that had rattled him more than he would like to admit.

And his patronizing comment about the case not being over until the bad guy was in cuffs – although that hadn't stung nearly as much as Peter's ice cold remark about agents versus criminal informants.

Neal hastily shoved that thought away. He wasn't going to think about Peter and his hurtful behavior now. Maybe not ever.

"Anyway, sorry you can't come over to June's for a while, Moz. I'm expecting Siegel to come poking around any day now. I'm a bit surprised he hasn't already."

"I need to go find new safehouses anyway. And maybe now that I don't have an empire to run, I'll finally have time to shape up my bonsai. It's in a deplorable state."

Neal left him to it and returned home. In the hallway, he was met by his landlady who had a slightly worried look on her face.

"Neal, dear, that Agent Siegel you told me about is here. A nice young man."

"Thanks, June. I take it he's already upstairs?"

"I'm sorry. The FBI's housing agreement says your handler is to be allowed access to your apartment at any time. I tried to stall him, offer him coffee, but..."

"I know, it's OK. I had been expecting him anyway."

He winked at her and proceeded up the stairs. He had been careful to rid his home of anything potentially incriminating, but you never knew what accidental clues you left behind and anxiety was creeping up on him again.

The door to his apartment was open. His handler was out on the terrace, seemingly admiring the view. Neal glanced around hastily – nothing seemed to have been touched or out of place but he wouldn't put it past Siegel to have done a quick search of the place.

Neal leaned against the terrace door, shoved his hands in his pockets and hid his apprehension behind a tone of irony. "Agent Siegel. Sorry I wasn't here to welcome you."

The agent turned around with a smirk. "That's all right. Nice place you've got here. Heard you picked it up in a thrift shop."

"You could say that. Find anything interesting?"

"Why, you keep something in here you shouldn't?"

"Does unpasteurized dairy count?"

"Not if you cook something good with it."

"I actually just had dinner."

"At Grand Central Station?"

Damn that anklet and nosy Feds. "Oyster bar. Best in town. You should try it."

"I'm more of a pizza man myself. Where's that little friend of yours?"

A chill went down Neal's spine and raised the hairs on the back of his neck. "What friend?"

Siegel leaned against the balustrade with an air of nonchalance, but his eyes were fixed on Neal. "Peter tells me you have a buddy who hangs around here and makes it his mission to drink all your wine and come up with new conspiracy theories."

"His conspiracy theories apparently took him elsewhere tonight." Neal shrugged. "Can I offer you something? Beer, wine...?"

"No thanks, I have to get going. Just wanted to stop by and see your place. I'm sure I'll get to meet your friend some other time."

"Well, you're welcome any time." Neal hoped that sounded sincere. Failing that, sarcastic was good too. Anything but slightly confused and panicked, which was how he was feeling.

Siegel smiled at him as he walked past on his way to the door. A smile that was impossible to interpret.

"Not convincingly sincere, Neal, but that's understandable. Points for trying."

* * *

_Thanks everyone for your lovely reviews! So encouraging! A couple of more chapters on this coming up soon._


	5. Chapter 5

"You're going to waste a _lot_ of time keeping an eye this close on me."

Neal didn't bother trying to hide his frustration. Not even in prison had he had this creepy, claustrophobic feeling of being watched constantly. The fact that his handler was giving him that knowing smirk again didn't help at all.

He was somewhat mollified when it turned out Agent Siegel had looked him up this time only because he needed help finding an apartment. It provided a golden opportunity to find out more about this man who until now had been very tight-lipped about personal details. Neal had sometimes wondered if he was more talkative among other agents and only tried to keep his personal life hidden from his CI – but Jones didn't seem to know any more about him than Neal did.

The fact that he was actually a very rich man explained a lot. Neal's respect for him immediately rose a couple of notches – not because of the wealth, but because of his unwillingness to flaunt it or settle down to an easy lifestyle because of it. And because Neal was apparently the only one to know about this.

"You want to give a conman a secret? You live a dangerous life, Agent Siegel."

They shared a grin that morning, the first one they had actually shared. Things went downhill from there. Not in their relationship, exactly – Neal actually enjoyed their chat during the stakeout and felt rather touched that Siegel had thought of him and brought him a pizza – but everything else in life. Or so it seemed. Hagan's impossible assignment, the need to con both Siegel and Peter _again_, the hurt in Peter's eyes when Neal said "you should just go" (and yes, the almost unbelievable hurt in his own heart), the moments of panic during the museum heist... and then another bout of panic when he saw Rebecca being brought in to the Bureau for questioning.

He tried to salvage _that_ con, he really tried, but he had the feeling he wasn't going to convince anyone. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, the moment when Siegel caught on, the way his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. When Peter pulled him out of the room he thought that was it. But Peter was, for once, too distracted by other issues to concentrate on him.

"I'm taking control over this case," Peter insisted and Neal couldn't believe his luck, that his lies to Rebecca had somehow gone unnoticed.

By Peter, at least. There was still the problem with his handler, who was undoubtedly going to serve up his head on a silver platter as soon as he had a chance.

Neal took off in a futile attempt to delay the inevitable. Would Siegel come and drag him back to interrogation, or would he tell Peter first?

* * *

"You're going to waste a _lot_ of time keeping an eye this close on me."

David rather enjoyed hearing the frustration in the consultant's voice. So the constant supervision got on his nerves? Served him right for seeking out every damn coffee truck and pretzel cart that happened to be positioned next to a bank or museum. David caught on to this game within hours and retaliated by yanking his chain a little, every now and then.

If only it were that easy to catch on to all of Caffrey's games. As they were sitting in the car, doing stake-out outside the Gershon museum, he still didn't know if the whole thing was part of some con or not. At the moment, there was not much else to do than let it play out and see what happened.

Caffrey's face was unreadable from up front. But if you were alert, you could sometimes catch little flickers out of the corner of your eye when he thought you weren't looking. Reactions and emotions, micro-expressions slipping past that mask before he could catch them. Not easy to interpret, maybe, but revealing all the same.

"You may be a conman, but you were right about that pizza." The most revealing reaction he'd seen today was his CI's surprise at the gift of a take-out pizza. Caught off guard by kindness or concern, for the second time in their week together – it seemed to be the only thing that Caffrey wasn't expecting, wasn't armed against.

Although to be honest, David himself hadn't been prepared to like him so much. Prepared for charm, yes. For the genuine interest in those blue eyes when he was asking personal questions, not so much. David had quickly decided to take the sometimes _too_ personal questions in his stride and respond with openness, and his instincts had paid off. Their bond was finally starting to grow.

It was ironic, then, that this newfound bond was the reason he just _knew_, when the museum employee was brought in for questioning, that Caffrey was the one who had stolen her staff ID.

It was also this bond that made him feel hurt. Which he shouldn't. He had been expecting the consultant to try to con him sooner or later, after all. So he pushed down his anger and focused on the task at hand, finding out what Rebecca knew. (Nothing, it seemed.)

It was no great surprise, later that evening, when his phone alerted him to the fact that Neal Caffrey had stepped outside his radius.


	6. Chapter 6

Caffrey wasn't answering the phone. David let it ring while he threw on his weapons holster, grabbed his keys and coat and headed out to get his car from the hotel parking, swearing under his breath all the way. He was just about to hang up when Caffrey picked up his phone. He sounded a little out of breath.

"Sorry, sorry. Wasn't my fault, I was in a cab … heading back now, I swear."

David stopped in his tracks and ground his teeth in an effort to keep his voice even.

"Neal. You tell that cab to come straight to my hotel. I will be waiting in the lobby with an eye on your tracking information. If you take as much as one detour from the straight route, or are not here withing fifteen minutes, you will be spending the next month on house arrest."

"Fifteen minutes, I'm not sure I can..."

"Fifteen. Be here."

He ended the call, made another call to the US Marshals Service to inform them that they did not need to hunt down the fugitive, and spent the next quarter of an hour pacing the lobby and trying by sheer willpower to stop the adrenaline flooding his body. In the endless minute before Caffrey had answered the phone, he had already pictured the end of his career, disgraced by a CI on the run, and wondered how he would ever be able to face Agent Burke again.

Caffrey burst through the hotel entrance just over sixteen minutes later. Despite his usual immaculate attire, there was an air of frustration about him.

"Agent Siegel, I wasn't..."

David held up a hand. "I'm not doing this in a hotel lobby. You can explain when we get to my room. Until then, shut up."

The consultant wisely did as he was told, until the moment he stepped into the room. "This is not the penthouse suite. Not even a junior suite. Does it even have a minibar? You know, I could have a talk with reception..."

"Not interested, Caffrey. The only thing I want to hear right now is a very good and very verifiable explanation of why you stepped out of your radius."

Caffrey sighed. "I was in a cab. Admittedly near the edge of my radius, but I was on my way home. The driver figured he would avoid traffic by taking a little detour, and it must have taken us out too far south. I was busy texting a friend and wasn't paying attention, so I only realized when the alarm went off."

"And the reason you couldn't call me right away? Or even answer the phone when I called you?"

"The driver went into hysterics when he realized where the alarm came from. He stopped the car, started screaming about having a felon on the run in his cab – well, I guess he was kind of right except, you know, it was entirely his fault I was 'on the run'. He wouldn't listen to me when I asked him to just turn around and go back. He got out of the car, tried to stop me from leaving, even shouted for the police. I kind of just had to get out of there. Then I managed to answer your call, found another cab and came here."

"Very dramatic. And of course you have the cab number so I can check that story?"

Another sigh. "Yes, Agent Siegel, I have the cab number, and will of course be happy to give it to you. Maybe you can pay him for the fare while you're at it, it was kind of forgotten in the heat of the moment. No tip though, I'm not happy with the service."

David just looked at him for a minute. Caffrey responded to his stare with a weary shrug.

"What were you doing out there, near the edge?"

"I was out walking."

"Two miles from home?"

"Yes. Peter can tell you it's not unusual for me. Two miles doesn't seem all that far if two miles is all you've got. Then I decided to take a cab home."

"You realize that the driver probably called the police on you, so that by now the NYPD are looking for you? You should have just stayed, called me and I would have sorted things out."

The frustration was becoming more and more pronounced. "We were stopped in a dodgy neighborhood, the guy's shouting was attracting the attention of some even dodgier elements hanging around there. The situation was threatening. My primary instinct won."

"To run."

"To get out of there, sort things out later. I wasn't running."

"All right, give me the cab number. I'll call him, and the NYPD if necessary. You sit down over there on the couch. And no, you can't touch the minibar."

Caffrey rolled his eyes and sat down.

It was late by the time everything was straightened out, but everything seemed to confirm the consultant's version of events. David put down his phone and rubbed his temples in a futile attempt to get rid of the headache that was forming. Caffrey gave him a weary look from his slumped position on the couch.

"You're not going to at least offer me a drink after the day I've had?"

"I'm going to need all that alcohol for myself after the day _I've_ had.

The CI stood up, slowly. "Can I go home then?"

"Sit down. There is something else we have to discuss."

"Are you referring to your stingy attitude with regard to the minibar?"

"I am referring to the Gershon museum employee, Rebecca Lowe. Whose staff key card you stole."

Caffrey gave him a blank look. "What?"

"Don't try that with me. You're in deep trouble, Caffrey. You tell me, right now, exactly what your involvement was with the museum heist."

The consultant blinked, as in surprise.

"I don't have her key card. I have no idea how that painting disappeared, or where it is now. I was not involved in that heist."

A moment of silence, then Caffrey's frustration was back. "Come on, do you really think I would have tipped you off about a heist I was in on?"

"It would certainly give you a good alibi and remove all suspicion from yourself."

"In that case, Agent Siegel, you are welcome to search me and my apartment. You won't find any evidence. I didn't do it."

Caffrey didn't seem angry or even very upset. He just stood there, meeting his handler's threatening stare with a resigned look.

"I knew it, when you interrogated Rebecca, that you thought I took her staff key," he continued in a low, earnest voice. "I saw the look on your face. I did con her, in a way – I let her think I was interested in her for other reasons and she had no idea I was gathering information for the FBI. Maybe I should have told you. But this is what I do – I get information for you, in ways that normal agents can't."

Damn, he was convincing. And a conman.

David spoke slowly. "I just got you off the hook with NYPD and the Marshals who were ready to go on the hunt for a fugitive. That doesn't mean you're off the hook with the FBI. I'm considering stuffing you into a holding cell at the Bureau right now and follow up with an extensive interrogation tomorrow. One which will not stop until I have evidence for or against you. Or a confession."

Caffrey didn't even flinch.

"I can't stop you, Agent Siegel. I'll go quietly, if that's what you want to do. But I'm asking you, give me a few days. I will come up with a lead and we will find that painting and the thief. I got the tip about the heist in the first place. There must be someone on the streets who has more information."

For a while longer, the CI just stood there, looking at him with those open eyes and silently waiting for him to reach a decision. In fact, the decision was already made. There was no real evidence linking the consultant to the museum heist and he was much too smart to keep any such evidence on him or in his apartment, or to yield anything under interrogation.

In the end, David knew that there was only one option. "I am going to continue this investigation from every angle. At the moment you are more useful if you are allowed to help, at least with parts of it."

It sounded harsh, even in David's own ears. To his surprise, Caffrey responded in a gentle tone.

"Yeah, I know. Anyway, thank you. For helping me out with the cab thing, and the leaving the radius thing."

"I still have to write a report, especially since the NYPD was involved. But I think it's going to say that you did not intentionally break the rules of your probation."

"Thanks." Caffrey hesitated, stuck his hands in his pockets."Are you... am I under house arrest?"

Good question. This was probably David's time to prove that he shouldn't be messed with. If he was feeling a touch of pity for the tired-looking consultant in front of him, it was in all likelihood because he was being manipulated. But still...

"No. But you make sure there are absolutely no deviations from the rules in the future, accidental or otherwise. And you'd better be on time for work tomorrow."

"Aren't I always?"

"Get out."

A trademark grin, and Caffrey was gone.

This was getting way, way too complicated.


	7. Chapter 7

"Do what you and Peter always do – solve the case!"

Mozzie's words were still ringing in Neal's head as he entered the office the next morning. He needed to get Peter to come and check out the Gershon museum with him, to look for evidence against the thief. The other thief, that is. Preferrably just the two of them – it might give him a chance to somehow atone for the hurtful thing he'd said to Peter in the car.

If it was hurting Peter only half as much as it was hurting himself, he had some serious atoning to do.

He needed to check in with his handler first, in any case. Siegel was in his office, frowning at his computer screen.

"Anything new?" Neal tried for a light tone while trying to gauge how much trouble he was in today.

"Not much yet. The museum sent over more of their staff records. I want you to start going through them."

Great. He was going to be stuck at his desk.

"You know, I was thinking I might try to hunt down the guy who gave me the tip about the museum heist. At the time, he insisted he didn't know anything more about it, but maybe he does now. And there are some other people I could try."

Siegel leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at him. "I take it you want to get away from your desk."

"I don't mind staying at my desk, but these guys are not the kind that are easy to reach over the phone. Even if I knew which number to call."

"And is this going to take all day?"

Neal knew better than to push it. "Probably not. I could be back after lunch?"

"Fine. But before you go, Agent Burke wants to see us both about that little... breach of protocol last night."

He barely had time to register that sinking feeling in his stomach before he was led into Peter's office, like a misbehaving schoolboy brought to the principal.

This was so unfair. The whole thing, going outside his radius, had actually happened exactly the way he told Siegel. A pure accident, a stupid mistake he could have prevented by just paying attention to where he was going. Compared to the other trouble he was in, or might be in soon, this was nothing and yet could lead to additional difficulties. And he really, really could not afford any additional difficulties.

"I got your report." Peter was addressing the other agent. "It seems Neal Caffrey stepped outside his radius, was reported by a taxi driver to the police for not paying his fare and being a possible fugitive from the law. You called off the Marshals and dealt with the rest yourself, spoke to the driver and explained the situation to the NYPD who wrote the whole thing off as a misunderstanding."

"That's correct," Siegel said in a clipped tone.

"And after speaking to Caffrey, you concluded that the breach was accidental. As he was back in his radius within four minutes you recommend no disciplinary measures for him."

Neal had had enough of the humiliation. "You know, since the suspect himself is in the room, maybe you would like to consult him regarding the incident?"

Peter wasn't ruffled. "I will. When it's your turn to speak. Right now I'm evaluating Agent Siegel's handling of the situation."

OK, so maybe the humiliation wasn't all for him. At his side, Siegel looked like Neal felt: worried and trying to pretend he wasn't.

There was a loaded pause. "And it seems you handled it correctly."

"Thank you, sir." At Siegel's tiny smile, Neal felt a stab of irritation. Of course that guy had to do everything right, while he himself was once again in trouble for something he had no control over.

"So, Neal, want to give me your explanation?"

The ASAC and his handler both looked at him expectantly, almost identical Fed frowns on their faces. For a moment, Neal saw himself as if from the outside and wondered how on earth the master criminal, the invincible Neal Caffrey, found himself in this situation – trying to justify his behavior in front of his FBI masters. At the thought, a shudder of despair suddenly chilled his entire body.

"Neal?"

It took an enormous effort to control his expression and remain standing there. To not turn and run, out of the office, out of all the trouble, out of this life. Only one anchoring thought floated up from the depths of his subconscious and he grasped it desperately: _This is Peter. My friend, Peter. He can save me._

"Yeah, sorry. I was... out walking." He told the story again. Peter listened intently and seemed to accept it, although it was impossible to tell whether he still had his suspicions. He probably did, being Peter. But at the moment, even that was a sort of comfort: _He is being Peter. A rock. Always the same._

"Fine, we'll leave it at that. David, I would like to discuss the museum security system with you, if you have the time."

"Of course. Neal, you go find those street contacts you were talking about. Check in with me after lunch."

Siegel's tone was friendly and Neal was too preoccupied to feel insulted at the dismissal anyway. He just nodded and left the office with a profound relief that had nothing to do with the cab incident.

For a long while, he just drifted around the streets. Breathing deeply. When he felt more like himself again, he called Peter and asked him to come to the Gershon museum. It was time to sort things out. _This is what Peter and I do – we solve cases._


	8. Chapter 8

So many strong and conflicting emotions had hit him today.

_I took my gloves off. _Neal didn't think he would ever forget the horror of that thought. What had he done? Neal Caffrey, master criminal, did not make mistakes like that.

What was happening to him?

_An innocent woman is being questioned by the FBI because of me._ Was that actual remorse that squeezed his heart? Something more than just the regret of losing the chance to get to know her? The FBI let her go but she lost her job, because of him. The fascinating Rebecca Lowe who looked at him with hurt in her beautiful eyes and said "I'ts not your fault" before she walked away.

_Good work today._ Weirdly enough, the strongest and most conflicting emotion as he left the office that evening had to do with David Siegel. The first day he met him, Neal had been uncharacteristically anxious. A new handler, someone he had never met and apparently competent enough and tough enough to pass Peter's muster, had been given almost unlimited control over him. Mixed with the anxiety there had been, of course, humiliation. He had definitely been all set to dislike this new handler.

That dislike had not lasted long. Neal had held on to his natural distrust, though, for obvious reasons.

But tonight, he had actually wanted to go out for a drink with Siegel, to celebrate their first closed case together. There was no use denying it – they had a bond, and it was growing stronger. Maybe they really were two sides of the same coin.

David Siegel had looked straight through him and told him the truth: "You and I both know you could ditch that anklet anytime, if you really wanted to." And left unsaid the rest of that truth: "You and I both know that you don't want to."

Neal slowed his walk and looked around him, at the strange beauty of a busy Manhattan street during rush hour. He really didn't want to ditch the anklet. He wanted to be rid of Hagan and leave all that behind him. He wanted dinners with Peter and Elizabeth, the thrill of solving cases with the White Collar team, and all the fun of his New York life without having to constantly look over his shoulder. And yes, he wanted to go out and celebrate a win with that man who was smart and fun to work with, someone he might one day in the future consider a friend. Someone who, like Peter, would help him stay on track.

_Someone who will see you as you are – a criminal._ That was what Peter had said about his new handler. The words no longer hurt him. To be seen. To be seen as he was, and still accepted.

After all, that was all he really ever wanted.

* * *

_Last chapter hopefully out soon. Thank you all for reading and for those wonderful, encouraging reviews!_


	9. Chapter 9

Neal Caffrey was near the edge of his radius again.

So David took his car, followed discreetly and saw him hand something to a man easily identified as Curtis Hagan.

So this was it? He had a sudden flashback to the look in his previous CI's eyes as David told him he was going back to prison. That look, and the heavy, cold sensation somewhere inside David Siegel himself. After only a few weeks with Neal, that dreaded sensation was back. Damn it, he didn't want to do this again – and it wasn't just because of the setback it would cause his own career.

He left his car and tailed Hagan on foot to a run-down building a few blocks away. Made a quick, scribbled note of the building name and which buzzer the man pressed to be let in. Noted that he came back out a few minutes later. David let him go and waited a while before approaching the building. There was no name listed next to buzzer number three.

Time to regroup and gather some more information. The rain began as David started the trek back to his car, going through the facts in his head. Neal, involved with Hagan. Neal, who was definitely hiding something. Neal, whom he no longer thought of as Caffrey. Neal, his responsibility whom he was determined to guide into a good and honest life.

Neal of the quick mind and lively eyes and genuine empathy, who was probably going back to prison for a very long time.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. David's new life in New York, the excitement and challenge and new beginnings, the good people surrounding him in the White Collar division – and Neal, who was becoming more important to him than just a career boost. All coming to an end before it had really even begun.

A sudden anger came over him. It would _not_ end. He wouldn't let it. First, he was going to call Peter. Then, he was going to shake Neal until his teeth rattled, the truth fell out and he finally came to his senses. Lastly, he would come up with a solution – something that would ensure Neal still had a future despite his unbelievable tendency to find trouble.

Already making plans in his head, he barely registered a voice calling out to him from behind. Only his agent's instincts made him automatically turn around. A tall, graceful figure stood before him. Hood up against the rain. Beautiful eyes in a pale face, much colder than the last time he saw them. Rebecca Lowe.

And a gun pointing right at his heart.

"Agent Siegel. I think you have taken on more than you can handle."

– _end_ –


End file.
